Get this. The President needs a portable printer only it can’t weigh anything. Zero pounds. I am pacing the floor in her office, trying to explain that they do not make such a printer but she doesn’t want to hear it. Instead she folds her arms and says, “I think you’re being unreasonable, honey.”

It’s OK for her to call me honey. We’re married.

“I’m being unreasonable?” I do the math again just in case she’s right. “You want a portable printer, but you don’t want to add weight to that laptop you lug around. Am I on the right track here?”

She throws her hands up in despair. “You’re not going to bring up the laptop thing again!”